


I could only see you

by Lysore



Series: A Lake Story [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Gen, Ron isn't at his best here, Ron wasn't under his best light in canon!GoF either, Sort Of, but let's be honest, pre-Harry/Hermione, second task AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 13:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysore/pseuds/Lysore
Summary: Harry's discussion with Dobby on the morning of the second task went differently, drastically changing the events of that chilly February morning as a result.





	I could only see you

**Author's Note:**

> The original works are not mine, never were, never will be. This is done purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too, should you happen to like what will follow. More specifically: some passages have been taken/paraphrased directly from the book. Those passages are obviously even less mine.  
> On the other hand, since there is no beta, I can lay claim to all the mistakes present in the text !  
> For those of you it may bother: yes, Vilas have an affinity with water. No, this isn’t the case here for the Veelas. Let’s call this me making use of my creative license. In my defense: if JKR had fashioned her Veelas after Vilas in every possible way, then how come Fleur lost that badly in the Second Task? So in here, they have an affinity for fire and air, not water. You have been warned.

“Harry Potter must wake up, sir !”

“Stop poking me – ”

“Dobby must poke Harry Potter, sir, because he must wake up!”

Harry opened his eyes: he was still in the library and the invisibility cloak had slipped off his head as he’d slept. He sat up and straightened his glasses, grimacing at the aches in his body. That’s what he got from falling asleep on a book researching –

“The task! Dobby, what time is it?”

“This is why Dobby was poking Harry Potter, sir, the task starts in twenty minutes. Harry Potter needs to hurry!”

“Twenty… Twenty minutes?” Harry croaked. He looked down at his watch: Dobby was right. It was ten past nine. A large, dead weight seemed to fall through Harry’s chest into his stomach.

“Hurry, Harry Potter!” Dobby was poking Harry again. “You is supposed to be down with the other champions, sir! Harry Potter needs to hurry!”

“I can’t Dobby,” Harry shook his head hopelessly. “I can’t do the task, I didn’t manage to figure it out.”

“No!” Dobby stood on the table to be at eye level with Harry. “Harry Potter will do the task. Dobby knew Harry Potter had not found the right book but Dobby has found a way to help Harry Potter!”

“How?” Harry scrambled to gather his thoughts. “You don’t even know what the second task is.”

“Dobby knows, Harry Potter, sir. No one pays attention to house elves Harry Potter, sir, so Dobby spied on the professors.”

Hope filled Harry and he grabbed Dobby’s thin arms. “And what did you find? Dobby, you know how to get me through this?”

“Dobby knows, sir!” The little elf was positively glowing. “Harry Potter must go into the lake and get his treasure the merpeople are guarding!”

“My treasure Dobby?”

“His treasure friend Harry Potter.” Dobby nodded empathically. “His Wheezy or his Grangy, Dobby couldn’t stay to hear which one because Dobby had to go.”

“What?” Harry gasped. “They’ve got… They’ve got Ron? Or Hermione? In the _lake_?”

“The treasure Harry Potter will miss the most, sir.” He started to tug insistently on Harry’s sleeve, round eyes worried. “But past an hour.”

“The prospect’s black” Harry continued tonelessly, starring in horror at the elf. “Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back. Dobby, you said you had a solution?”

The elf put a hand in the pocket of his shorts, drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, grayish-green rat tails and held it out for Harry to take. “You has to eat this, sir! Right before you go into the lake, sir.”

Harry took the tentacled thing – a plant? – hesitantly. It was sticky. “What is it Dobby?”

“Gillyweed, sir,” the elf squeaked proudly. “It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater.”

“Dobby,” Harry said frantically, eyes glued to the not very edible looking plant that could apparently help him save one of his friends, “are you sure about this?”

He couldn’t help but remember that the last time Dobby had tried to “help” him, a bludger had tried to murder him.

“Dobby is quite sure, sir”, the elf squeaked earnestly, “Dobby heard Professor Sprout and Professor Moody in the staffroom when Dobby was mopping the floor. Dobby heard them talk about the next task and Professor Sprout is the herbology professor, Harry Potter, sir.”

“I know that Dobby. What did she say exactly?”

“She hoped someone would use that plant Harry Potter, sir. Because people can breathe like a fish for an hour if they eat it! Dobby took one so Harry Potter could save his treasure!”

Harry’s doubts vanished: if Sprout had said it, it had to be true. He jumped to his feet and stuffed the invisibility cloak in his bag. “Like a fish? Dobby that’s exactly what I need!”

Just as he prepared to run out of the library, Dobby threw himself in front of him.

“Harry Potter cannot go like this! Harry Potter must wait, sir, Dobby is coming back.”

“Dobby, wait!” It was too late, the elf had disappeared with a small ‘pop’. Harry checked his watch. A quarter past nine. If he ran, it would only take him ten minutes to get to the lake. He would wait for Dobby for five minutes, he owed the incredibly helpful elf this at least.

 

 

It took Dobby less than that to reappear, enthusiastically waving a pair of swimming trunks and a knife. “Harry Potter can’t swim in his clothes!”

Harry narrowly avoided the knife and made a grab for the trunks before retreating behind a shelf to change. Just before he took off his pants, he chanced a look over his shoulder to find Dobby standing very still, watching him, big round eyes watching him unblinkingly.

“Hum… Dobby? Could you please turn around?”

“Of course Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will protect Harry Potter’s modesty!”

Harry could feel his cheeks grow hotter. “Thank you Dobby,” he muttered. “Isn’t this the knife Sirius gave me for Christmas?”

“Harry Potter noticed! Dobby thought this would help Harry Potter!” It would do the opposite if Dobby didn’t stop swinging it around like that. He could hear it swishing through the air and hurried to finish putting his shoes back on.

“Dobby heard professor Moody say Harry Potter would lose because he cannot cast spells without speaking yet! So Dobby remembered Harry Potter’s magic isn’t like Dobby’s, sir, so Harry Potter would need a weapon! Harry Potter owns a very sharp knife, sir, look –”

“Dobby stop!” Harry wrestled the knife away from Dobby’s hand before he could prove to him how sharp it was by cutting himself. “I believe you Dobby, it’s a very good idea.” Accidental limb removal averted.

Harry barely had time to raise the knife out of the way above his had when Dobby let out a strangled shout of joy and jumped to briefly hug Harry’s legs, “Dobby will never let down Harry Potter, sir!” before he began to push him towards the library’s door. “But now, Harry Potter must hurry, Harry Potter cannot be late to save his treasure!”

A vice painfully constricted Harry’s stomach once again. A new sense of urgency infusing his movements, he put both the knife and the gillyweed in his bag, and burst into the corridor running.

“Dobby must go now, sir, Dobby is supposed to be in the kitchens” Dobby squealed, trying but failing to keep up with Harry’s longer strides.

“See you later Dobby!” Harry shouted before accelerating, “and thank you!”

 

 

Harry flat out sprinted through the grounds in the direction of the lake. Along the way, he noticed the seats that had encircled the dragons’ enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank of the lake, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the dark water below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran as fast as he could around his side of the lake towards the judges, who were sitting at a gold-draped table at the water’s edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were already standing beside the judges’ table, watching Harry sprint toward them.

“I’m… here…” Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur’s robes.

“Where have you been?” a bossy, disapproving voice exclaimed loudly. “The task is about to start, you were supposed to be here eight minutes ago. To listen to the instructions! You missed them!”

Harry looked around. Percy Weasley was sitting at the judges’ table, pocket watch in hand. That meant Mr Crouch had failed to turn up again.

“Now, now, Percy,” Ludo Bagman intervened, looking immensely relieved to see Harry. “Let him catch his breath! There are still a few minutes before the beginning of the task."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn’t look at all pleased to see him. It was obvious from the looks on their faces they had thought he wasn’t going to show up.

Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath, and trying to make the stitch that felt as though he had a knife buried in his side disappear. That didn’t diminish the burning anger he felt at the thought those two people had truly believed he would have abandoned one of his friends to drown in the lake. Harry turned his head in the direction of the stands and tried to see if he could see either Ron or Hermione there but unfortunately, they were too far for him to see anything but the general colour of the uniforms of the students.

Desperate for a distraction from the anxiety that was steadily lighting all of his nerves on fire, Harry looked around him. Cedric and Krum were already in their swimming trunks, wands in hands. Harry internally thanked Dobby for having brought him his. He would have looked stupid had he been the only one going into the lake fully dressed. Fleur was still disrobing, probably having waited until the last minute to ward off the February chill with as many layers of cloth as she could. After emulating her, Harry decided he might as well apologize for the mud accident. Given how unhappy she looked, she probably thought ‘ze little boy’ had ruined her robes and he didn’t want another reproach from her.

She leveled him with a cool stare as she saw him approach.

“Sorry about the mud,” he waved at the hem of the robes she had neatly folded on the bench beside her.

Her eyebrows raised interrogatively and she glanced at them “Don’t worry about it. I ‘adn’t noticed.” She hadn’t noticed? But then why was she frown– “I zink zey took my sister.”

Harry felt a little bad. As Snape took pleasure in reminding him every time he could, of course everything wasn’t about him. He wasn't the only one with a loved one under the lake.

“Why couldn’t my parents ‘ave done like ze Krums and refused zey take ‘er?”

That gave him a pause “Krum’s hostage isn’t his most precious person?”

Fleur shook her head, her lips curling down into a displeased expression. “No. ‘e was so proud about it too! I ‘eard ‘im talk wiz ‘is ‘eadmaster on ze way to ze lake.” She frowned, “zere are so many rules broken in zis Tournament. First you, a child, ‘as to compete and now ‘e” she jutted her chin towards Krum, “knows ‘is ‘ostage is not ze right one so ‘e is less worried and –“

“I’m not a child!” Harry hissed angrily.

She sniffed, raising her head haughtily. “Of course you are. At our ages, zree years is a lot, ‘ave you forgotten? Your magical core ‘asn’t had ze time to expand ze way ours did.”

That stopped Harry’s train of thoughts short and he waved his hand in that universal motion that meant ‘what are you waiting for, explain’.

“Magical maturity ‘Arry.” What was it with French people always getting to first name basis with people too fast? He didn't know her!

“At seventeen. Even if you are powerful for your age, zere is a huge gap between you and us. Magically speaking, you are still a little boy.” If that was her reason of using this belittling nickname, he would let is slide. Just this once.

Turned her gaze to the lake and visibly shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “And now water. I ‘ate swimming. Veela blood belongs in air and fire, not in cold lakes! We are part fire-bird _bon sang_!”

“If fire is your thing, at least you’ll be less cold than me in there,” Harry tried to joke, which earned him an actual smile in return. It was faint, barely an upward twitch of her lips, but he had seen it.

Harry bid her good luck and walked a few paces away, back to his clothes and bag, hopping from one foot to the other to warm up as much as he could. The lake water was going to be freezing. He hoped Madam Pomfrey would have a cure for the severe hypothermia he was bound to end up with. Strangely enough, he felt guiltily better after hearing she seemed as afraid as he was of failing this task and wouldn’t be at ease in the water either.

And had he managed to have a civil conversation with Fleur Delacour of all people? The world as he knew it was probably ending. He would take a leaf out of Trelawney’s book and consider this a good omen for the task to come.

 

 

Ludo Bagman chose that moment to stand up and stroll towards Harry. “All right Harry? Caught your breath? Know what you’re going to do?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, thinking of the gillyweed still in his bag.

Bagman gave Harry’s shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges’ table. He pointed his wand at his throat, “ _Sonorus_!” and his voice boomed across the dark water all the way to the stands.

“All our champions are present and ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely one hour to recover what has been taken from them. Champions, take your place at the edge of the water.”

Shivering from the low temperature, Harry checked if both his wand and its holster were secure around his forearm, and rummaged in his bag. He slipped Sirius’ knife between two of the holster’s leather straps and retrieved the gillyweed before taking his place at the edge of the lake on Cedric’s left.

“On the count of three. One… two… _three_!”

The whistle echoed shrilly in the air and the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry brought the gillyweed to his mouth and waded into the lake, trying to chew the plant as fast as he could without gagging over its slimy and rubbery texture.

The water was so cold he felt as though he was entering a lake filled with fire instead of icy water. Once he was waist deep, he finally managed to swallow the gillyweed and hoped it would take effect soon.

He could hear laughter in the crowd and knew he must look stupid, simply walking into the lake without showing any sign of magical power. The part of him that was still dry was covered in goosebumps and he was shivering violently. He avoided looking at the stands: the laughter was becoming louder, and there were catcalls and jeering coming from the Slytherins.

Then, quite suddenly, Harry felt as though an invisible pillow had been pressed over his mouth and nose. He tried to draw breath, but it made his head spin, his lungs were empty. Suddenly, he felt a piercing pain on either side of his neck.

Harry grabbed his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air. He had gills. Without wasting more time, Harry did the only thing that made sense and flung himself head first into the water.

His first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life. His head stopped spinning. He inhaled deeply and felt more water pass smoothly through his gills, sending much needed oxygen back to his brain. Looking down at his hands, he realized two things in rapid succession: they had become webbed and he could see underwater clearly. He twisted to look at his bare feet: they too had transformed, the toes having become elongated and webbed into something flipper-like.

‘Breathe like a fish’ Dobby had said. Apparently, that was not the only thing gillyweed could do. He wasn’t even cold anymore. On the contrary, he felt pleasantly cool and light.

Harry struck out with his legs and marveled at how far and fast his flipper-feet propelled him through the water. Confidence filling him, he dived determinately into the murky green depths of the lake.

 

 

Silence pressed upon Harry’s ears as he soared over a strange, foggy landscape. He could only see ten feet around him. As he sped through the water, new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness, forming forests of rippling, tangled black weed, or wide plains of mud littered with dull stones. He swam deeper and deeper, out towards what he hoped was the center of the lake, staring intently through the eerily gray-green lit water into the shadows beyond.

Small fishes flickered past him like silver darts. Once or twice, he thought he saw something larger moving ahead of him. When he got nearer, he discovered them to be nothing but large blackened logs, or dense clumps of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions, the merpeople, or their village. Nor, thankfully, of the giant squid.

Light green algae stretched ahead of him as far as he could see, at least two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. Harry tried to discern shapes through the gloom until, without warning, something grabbed a hold of his right ankle, long, solid strings going up all the way to his knee and squeezing so hard Harry thought the pressure would break his skin.

He arched and twisted around and saw a small, horned water demon’s head poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around his leg. The grindylow propelled itself closer to Harry, baring its needle-like fangs. Harry groped wildly for his wand and his webbed hand clumsily closed around a thin handle. Eyes trained over the grindylow, he swiftly pulled his wand out into a wide arc from its holster and trained it on the water demon’s skull, only realizing this wand was too long when Sirius’ knife cut through the water demon with barely any resistance at all, neatly slicing its head in two.

Now free, Harry didn’t pause to dwell about what had just happened. He hurried out of the grindylow-infested patch of algae – he remembered professor Lupin’s lesson well: where there was one, dozens of others were never far – swimming as fast as he could. Once he felt he had put sufficient distance between him and the nest of water demons, he turned around to check if some had followed him. He was reassured to see none of the cowardly creatures had dared, preferring instead to shake their long-fingered fists at him before sinking back into their patch of weed to wait for a more defenseless prey.

Harry slowed down to change his grasp on the knife. His new reverse grip allowed him to hold it firmly despite his webbed hands, just in case some grindylows were still lurking about. Still moving, he turned full circle into the water, finding nothing but a rippling endless field of algae all around him. He started to hyperventilate, strings of small bubbles coming out of his mouth and obscuring his vision. The surprise fight with the grindylow had disoriented him and he didn’t know where he was anymore. How could he hope to find his friend when he could barely tell which way was up?

“How are you getting on?”

Harry thought he was having a heart attack.  Reflex had him swinging his right arm out in the direction of the voice and his knife embedded itself into –

“Myrtle!” Harry tried to shout, but nothing came out of his mouth but a large bubble.

“Oh Harry,” she cooed, batting her semi-transparent eyelashes at him, “I know you like me but if you want to join me in the afterlife, you need to stab yourself, not me.”

Harry grimaced and put his knife back into the holster. He then moved his arms in a wide semi-circle around him, trying to convey his predicament.

“You might want to try over there,” she giggled, pointing to a direction a little to his left, and Harry gave her the thumbs-up to show his thanks. “I would come with you but I don’t like them much. They always chase me when I get too close. Don’t forget to come visit me when you’re done though, I’ll show you how to use that knife properly” she half giggled-half sobbed and with a wink thrown at him, she was gone.

Harry set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed to avoid any more grindylows that might be lurking here. The rhythmic paddling of his legs was repetitive and left his brain free to try to guess which of his friends had been taken. Fleur knew it had been her sister. Dobby had affirmed what he would ‘sorely miss’ was either Ron or Hermione which seemed right. A vision of Ludo Bagman trying to convince aunt Petunia that because she was his relative, she had to participate in the Tournament came to him and he choked on a hysterical laugh, his pace temporarily broken.

Perhaps they had taken Ron, who was his brother in all but blood? He just didn’t know. He treasured both of his friends equally, he couldn’t, no, he refused to choose between them. Maybe that was why they had both been called in professor Dumbledore’s office yesterday? The organisers couldn’t decide but they also couldn't use both of them so they left the choice up to his friends?

 

 

He swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. He was gliding over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily in the ever dimmer luminosity as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a proof he was still going in the right direction: the echoes of a haunting mersong.

_“… An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took …_

Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it, who were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swiftly swam past it, following the now louder mersong. He was nearly there!

_“… your time is half gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot…”_

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom of all sides. Here and there, in the shadows, Harry glimpsed faces… which bore no resemblance at all to the breath-catching painting of the mermaid in the prefects’ bathroom.

These merpeople had grayish skin, matching the shimmering silvery scales on their long tails. Their eyes were yellow, as were their sharp-looking teeth, and they had dark green hair adorned with shells. They leered at Harry as he swam past but didn’t make a move to approach him.

Invigorated by the knowledge he was close to reaching his friend, Harry sped up, navigating between the growing crowd of merpeople who were observing him as if they had never seen a human with gills before.

 

 

Finally, Harry took a turn that led him into what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing the song that had called Harry to them. Behind it, a crude sort of statue representing a gigantic merperson was standing at the center of the mer-square. Harry could distinguish four indistinct shapes bound tightly to the tail of the stone statue. That meant he was the first champion to arrive, thanks to the gillyweed and – and he would recognize that hair anywhere.

“Hermione!” he half gasped, half bubbled.

Harry’s vision tunneled down and he swam towards his friend with haste. He went right through the choir and reached her in the blink of an eye, not even glancing at the other champions’ hostages.

“Hermione, Hermione!” he gurgled as he shook her limp shoulders.

A wave of cold completely unrelated to the temperature of the water swept through Harry. How much time had he left? The gillyweed seemed to still be working flawlessly but he didn't know how long it had been since the song had told him thirty minutes had passed already. He put his ear on her chest.

Her heart was beating slowly but steadily. Harry felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She was still alive. He hadn’t failed to save her yet. He couldn’t help but feel this was eerily similar to the moment when he had found Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, nearly two years ago. Ginny too had been asleep and unwakeable until the Diary had been destroyed. Hermione would wake up too. He just needed to get her out of here so the judges could wake her up. He still had time but he needed to _hurry_.

Internally praising Dobby’s foresight once more, Harry pulled Sirius’ Christmas gift from his holster for the second time and made to cut through Hermione’s restraints when the point of a spear prickled his left shoulder.

Harry turned slowly, angling his body so it would stay in front of Hermione’s while keeping his eyes trained on the spear.

“Leave her.” The merman wielding it growled with a gravelly voice.

Was this part of the task? Harry wondered. Were the merpeople supposed to fight to keep the hostages? Harry clenched his fists and felt a resistance in his right hand. The knife. He didn’t want to hurt anyone but he would if they put Hermione’s life in danger. She was always there for him whenever he needed her. His resolve crystallized. He would protect her, until the end if need be.

“No,” he answered firmly, though only a large bubble left his mouth. The merpeople who had congregated around him seemed to understand anyway, because Harry barely had enough time to brace himself before several pairs of strong gray hands seized him and began to drag him away from Hermione, their owners laughing.

“Leave her, she is not yours,” the merman with the spear enunciated slowly.

Blood was rushing through Harry’s ears and he could barely hear the words, let alone listen to their meaning. In his agitated state, he only registered they sounded threatening and struggled harder. Finally, one of his erratic twists managed to free his right arm. He buried his unnaturally sharp knife in the hand that was wrapped around his left wrist. Just as with the grindylow, Sirius’ gift cut through flesh and bone as though they were butter. The merwoman the hand belonged to let him go with a piercing cry.

Harry kept twisting and swinging the knife haphazardly around him until all the merpeople holding him had relinquished their hold on him and fled his general vicinity. He swam as fast as he could towards Hermione, evading fragments of stone knives, spears and... was that a finger? One quick drag of his arm down and Hermione was free from the ropes that had bound her to the stone tail.

A glance over his shoulder showed him a handful of merpeople huddled together, discussing in hushed tones a few feet away from him. A row of others seemed to be protecting them, spears extended in his direction.

Taking advantage of their apparent distraction and unwillingness to attack him again, Harry wrapped his arms securely around Hermione’ torso, careful not to let the knife touch her, and sped upward and out of the village as fast as he could.

 

 

After a few minutes, his legs started to tire so Harry chanced a look below him. A merman was still tailing him, though the water was so opaque there could be more hidden behind him. Worried about being caught and having Hermione dragged back down into the mervillage, Harry ignored the burning in his legs he kept his pace. He needed to be faster than them. His friend’s life depended on it.

Unfortunately, the burning didn’t go away and a cramp in his left calf forced Harry to an abrupt stop only a few feet further. He decided to spare a few seconds to massage the tender muscle. Doing this while keeping a solid grip on both Hermione and the knife was difficult, but Harry managed. He was more worried about his pursuer.

He realised said merman had stopped and was keeping his distance, a conflicted expression pasted on his face. It was the same one who had tried to talk to him before too. What was he playing at? Harry was in a vulnerable position, why wasn’t he attacking him and retrieving Hermione?

Just as the merman seemed to come to a decision and began to propel himself closer to Harry, there was a flash of light and heat that propagated through the water.

Harry saw the merman stop and turn his head in the direction of the disturbance. He seized this chance to put more distance between them.

 

 

The water above Harry was starting to become visibly lighter, more luminous. He had just started allow himself the optimistic hope he would soon be out of the water when he noticed he was slowing down.

“No, no, no!” he groaned around bubbles.

His right hand was fitting better around the handle of the knife, which could only mean one thing: the transforming magic of the gillyweed was waning. Taking a deep breath while he still had gills, Harry forced his aching legs to kick harder through the water to compensate for his slowing pace.

“Hold on Hermione, I’m nearly there.”

It was becoming more and more difficult to breathe and he could feel pain on the sides of his neck again. Harry took one last big gulp of water and steeled himself to finish the trip up holding his breath.

A few kicks upward and he could clearly discern the shape of the sun above him. A movement at the periphery of his vision made him falter. The merman! But no, he was still only watching, his powerful tail indolently undulating and slowly pushing him upward at Harry’s speed.

Was he escorting him back up? Or was he simply waiting for Harry to drown so he could pull both him and Hermione back down into the village without having to fear injury from Harry’s knife?

Harry’s legs were seizing up with the effort to keep swimming and his arms were hurting from the constant strength of his grip around Hermione armpits. A new wave of pain in his feet told Harry his flippers had fully reverted back into feet... his eyesight was becoming blurry… the water he had inhaled was choking... his lungs were burning… dots were appearing in his vision… the cold water was robbing him of all his warmth... he needed to _breathe_ , he needed air because he was so close, he couldn’t stop, not now and –

Harry’s head broke through the surface of the lake. Half floating, half swimming, he painfully coughed up all the lake water that was in his lungs, choking on a good half of it before he managed to finally inhale some of the wonderful, cold, clean air of the surface. He gulped it down with desperate, open mouthed breaths. He felt as though he had never breathed properly before, never valued air as much as he should have. Still panting, pulled Hermione’s head up.

A few few seconds passed and nothing happened. Had he taken too long? No! Hermione was moving, she was opening her eyes and coughing up water too.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted, throwing his arms around her, temporarily dragging them underwater again. “Hermione, you are okay! You woke up!”

He felt dizzy with relief. He didn’t even feel the cold of the water or the chill of the air anymore. He threw his head back and laughed, happier than he had been in months.

When he looked back at her, Hermione’s brows had arched up, as they always did when she was confused, “of course I am okay Harry.”

“I was so afraid, the song said –”

“You know professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have let any of us drown Harry,” Hermione interrupted him gently.

Harry’s joy left him and he felt sheepish. Of course, Dumbledore wouldn’t have. But Dumbledore had also let dragons come into Hogwarts for the first task!

He clasped his hands around her shoulder to earnestly look at her right in the eyes “How was I supposed to know that? The song said you would die Hermione. And you said it yourself, people have died in the Triwizard Tournament before! You could have drowned Hermione, _drowned_! Do you know how much it hurt when the basilisk had petrified you? When I saw you down there, it was just the same! I was so afraid and who knows what really would have happened to you because the merpeople didn’t want to let me free you and –”

A soft look entered Hermione’s eyes and this time, it was her who engulfed Harry in a strange half swimming, half floating hug, interrupting his rambling. “Thank you Harry, for caring so much about me.” She then squeezed him more enthusiastically, trilling joyfully through shattering teeth, “and you did it, you did it! You found out all by yourself how to get through the task!”

Harry’s face grew hotter and felt compelled to give Dobby back his due, “Dobby helped actually. Come on, I’ll explain on the way to the shore.”

Once the time of explanations was over and the shore was significantly closer, Harry realized the crowd was cheering loudly at them. How could he have missed so much noise before?

“It must have been a bit boring for them don’t you think?” Hermione mused between two breaststrokes. “They’ve just been sitting there, staring at the water for all this time. It was far less intense than the first task.”

“I wonder how they will attribute the points.”

“There is a merman who is giving Professor Dumbledore a report. I didn’t know he could speak mermish.”

Harry followed the nod Hermione had made towards the shore and sure enough, there was Dumbledore engaged in a conversation with the merman who had been tailing Harry the whole way up. Both were emitting the same screechy noises the merpeople made when they were above water. The headmaster was frowning though, and the merman was waving his arms agitatedly, which probably meant Harry had done something wrong. Maybe there hadn’t been any weapon allowed beside a wand? Speaking about weapon.

“I lost my knife!”

“The one Si-Snuffles sent you for Christmas?”

“Yes, we weren’t sure with Dobby if I could cast spells while underwater so he brought it to me. It helped me quite a lot.”

“That was smart Harry, I’m so proud of you,” Hermione cheered. “Perhaps you’ll be able to summon it later. And even if you lost it, I’m sure he will we happy to hear you put his gift to good use.”

 

 

They swam in silence until they reached the shore where all the judges were frowning. Harry began to think maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing he had lost the knife in the end. Less evidence against him.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them at the shore. As soon as they had hauled themselves out of the lake, she lost no time in casting a drying spell over their clothes before wrapping both of them so tightly in warm blankets Harry thought this was probably what being in a straitjacket felt like. She finished by forcing a measure of very hot potion down their throats which made steam gush out of their ears.

Once she was done, she left Harry and Hermione huddled next to each other.

“You were the first one up Harry, you did so well!” she whispered, eyes shining. She started to say more but interrupted herself as Dumbledore came to a stop in front of them, his face serious.

“Mister Potter. First, I will return this to you. Leres, who escorted you up, said you released your hold on it when you broke through the surface of the lake and he believed you might want it back. As I came to understand, he also wouldn’t mind never seeing this particular weapon under the surface of the lake again.”

Harry’s lips stretched into a sheepish smile and he quietly thanked Dumbledore before taking his knife from his outstretched hand.

“Now, although I must congratulate you for your efficient retrieval of your hostage,” Dumbledore added with a much somber tone, and Hermione took Harry’s hand in hers, probably sensing the bad news pending. “I am afraid I come with the news there was a problem with the identity of said hostage.”

Hermione let out a gasp. Her eyes went wide, and she clasped her unused hand over her mouth.

“As Miss Granger just remembered, she wasn’t supposed to be your hostage. Mister Weasley was.”

“That’s not possible” Harry stammered, horrified. “I only saw Hermione below! That can’t be true professor, I would have noticed it!” But as he was speaking, he remembered the merman telling him ‘she is not yours’. And he had thought this was a threat!

“Truly? Then can you tell me who the hostages of the other champions were Mister Potter?”

“There was… There was Fleur’s sister… probably,” Harry mumbled sheepishly, cheeks burning. “I… Once I saw Hermione, I didn’t really look anywhere else.”

Hermione’s hand gave a little spasm around his but Herry kept his eyes firmly on Dumbledore’s.

The headmaster heaved a weary sigh, suddenly looking his age. “This would corroborate Leres’ report. He said given how fiercely you fought to take her up and how you didn’t even glance at the other children, he and his colleagues concluded there had been some sort of miscommunication with us and let you leave with Miss Granger.”

Understanding finally dawned on Harry. He had completely misinterpreted the merpeople’s behavior. Though a pressing issue was still there. “What will happen to Ron?”

Dumbledore’s features softened, “have no fear Harry. If one of the other champions doesn’t collect him, the merpeople will bring him back up unharmed when I will ask it of them.”

Harry felt like he could breathe again. “But why did you put my two best friends below? Did you really think I would have been able to choose between them had I noticed Ron was there too?”

“That, Mister Potter, was a concern we hadn’t thought of I am afraid,” Dumbledore answered, sympathetic. “Now if you will both excuse me, I have a conference to hold with my fellow judges. You’ll understand, Harry, that you will receive a penalty because you made a mistake which also penalized at least one other champion.” Without waiting for an answer, Dumbledore took his leave for the judges’ table.

“That’s unfair,” Harry muttered before turning to Hermione. “So, who was supposed to save you?”

“Viktor.”

Jaw clenched, Harry jumped to his feet and started pacing agitatedly, “not _him_! Fleur told me he arranged so no family member of his was taken so he could have less pressure during the task or something!” Hermione let out a strangled cry but Harry was too incensed to stop. “Why did it have to be you? He has only known you for what, two months? He doesn’t even care about you as much as I do! They had no right to do this! He has friends in Durmstrang, no? Why wasn’t one of _them_ his hostage!”

“...He. What?” Hermione’s voice was low and dangerous and Harry stopped himself, his jaw clicking shut. He knew better than to interrupt an angry Hermione, especially when she resorted to whispered anger. He didn't envy Krum his fate one bit.

“They told me.” She interrupted herself with an irate hiss, a sound resembling the sibilant quality of Parseltongue so much Harry felt half a second of confusion at not being able to understand it.

After taking a deep breath, she started again, her voice steadily rising. “They said _I_ was the person he would miss the most. They lied. Karkaroff lied. Bagman lied. Dumbledore lied. I accepted to participate in this stupid task because they said it couldn’t be _anyone else_. And I believed them! Stupid, silly little girl that I was, I _believed_ them! When they lied to me. In. My. Face!”

Harry had never seen her this betrayed before. Nor this angry. Not at Malfoy. Not at Pettigrew. Not even when she had discovered Lockhart was a fraud, or when Ron had insulted her at the Yule Ball.

He was at a loss. He didn’t know how to get her to calm down before she brought the judges’ attention over them. Not that he cared too much but she didn’t deserve to be the object of yet another scandal. He just hoped that nasty Skeeter woman wasn’t anywhere close.

 

 

Fortunately, a distraction was appearing. That was good because there was no way he would have tried to shush her in this life or any other. Ripples were traveling through the lake and a sandy haired teenager emerged, his head covered in what looked like the bubble shaped helmet of a space-suit. A dark haired girl similarly equipped was swimming alongside him. Cedric had come second with Cho in toe!

Harry watched Hermione breathe heavily for a few seconds, visibly making an effort to swallow her rightful indignation in order to cheer with everyone else.

Together, they watched Cedric and Cho get out of the lake hand in hand, and make doe eyes at each other while Madam Pomfrey took care of them.

“Did you really only see me Harry?” Hermione’s voice was still tense, but when Harry turned, he found her looking wistfully at Cho and Cedric.

Harry shuffled his feet sheepishly and shrugged. He felt a little embarrassed and hot all of a sudden. “Yep. As soon as I recognized you, I stopped seeing everything else.”

She leaned into his side. “I’m glad it was you who brought me up instead of Viktor.”

“So am I Hermione.”

She took a shaky breath, “you don’t even regret not saving Ron?”

Harry cursed himself when he saw her deliberately angle her body away from him. It was always too easy to forget Hermione could be as insecure as Ron sometimes, albeit not for the same reasons. Because of her brilliance, her childhood had been nearly as lonely as his own.

Harry took some time to reflect on her question before answering. The truth was always the best policy. “Of course I do.” He saw her face fall hurried to continue. “I’m explaining this badly. Just listen to me until the end?”

Hermione nodded, trying but failing to keep her hurt grimace from showing.

He would take the encouragements he could get and this would have to do. He braced himself and resumed his explanation. “Ron is my best friend Hermione. He is the first friend my age I made. He brought me into his family, the family that is now also my own in everything but blood. I love him the way I love a brother.” He felt he was digging himself into a deeper hole with how Hermione’s expression remained blank but he bravely kept on without faltering because it needed to be said. “So he will always have a special place in my heart. But you are important too, you know, just as important as he is, just in a different way.”

“Different how?” She had turned back toward him, just a little.

“You are… You are you. I can’t really explain it.” He fumbled a bit with his arms, starting before aborting a movement to take her hand. “You are the first person who lied for me when you lied to the teachers about the troll,” she took a breath to interrupt him, but he hurried on.

“You always want what’s best for me and that’s why you are always helping me with my schoolwork, why you do things for me you never would like break the rules, and you always try to protect me even when I don’t want you to like when you told McGonagall about the Firebolt last year.”

“You were so angry with me about that one.” Oh no, her lower lip was trembling.

“You are amazing Hermione, and precious, and when Dobby told me they had taken a treasure and it was a person, I thought of you.”

A light dusting of pink was adorning Hermione’s cheeks and she looked like she was repressing a smile.

“And most importantly, you are the only one who always stick by my side without fail.”

This gave her a pause and a frown started to spread on her face, “that’s not true, Ron is always here too.”

Harry grimaced. “You know him as well as I do Hermione. While I can’t imagine him not being a part of my life… He can be a bit fickle.” And wasn’t that hard to admit. “He comes and goes. Sometimes, he buys too much in the Boy-Who-Lived crap. Something will happen, he will become jealous, and leave angrily. After some time, he will finally remember fame doesn’t mean as much to me as it does to him and he will come back with his tail between his legs.”

“That’s… That’s not true Harry,” she looked as though she had received a hard blow. “Didn’t he rescue you from your aunt and uncle’s house before second year?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t a time when the entire school was ostracizing me. And the twins had probably wanted to fly the Ford Anglia for a long time.”

Hermione’s reply was sharp and cold, “the last one is uncalled for Harry.”

He sighed. “You are right. I’m still a little bitter about his reaction about me being a champion. It’s just…” he shrugged helplessly. “I know he will come back eventually. But every time he leaves because he believes I value fame over my friends, it hurts so much... He always forgets I would give anything to be trade my place with his and live with parents and siblings who love me unconditionally.”

Hermione placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to her side. Her eyes were too bright for Harry not to notice their watery sheen.

“Yes but every time he sincerely apologizes. You know he feels terrible when it happens.”

It probably was due to the exhaustion: the task had emptied him of his last reserves of energy and he hadn't had a good night’s sleep in _weeks_. But suddenly, Harry wasn't tired or melancholy anymore. He was angry.

“I know he feels bad Hermione, but he doesn't apologize, not really. Remember the first task? He got you to relay the apology in his stead, and I am tired of him not owning up to his devouring jealousy. I love him, I do. He is my brother. And I’ve known he craves attention and being in the limelight ever since first year when all he saw in the Mirror of Erised was him being a prefect, and popular, and adored. And that’s okay! But what is not okay is him so easily forgetting that fame is his heart’s desire, not mine. What I saw was my parents!” Harry whisper-shouted. He took a shaky breath and continued mournfully, “why must he always overlook I’m only famous because I didn't die when my parents did? Some days, I think you are the only one who ever sees me, Harry, because all the wizarding-raised kids will never be able see past the Boy-Who-Lived story they were raised with.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione’s voice was strangled. He heard her take a few choked inhales, “I know he has some flaws… but we both know he is also so much more than that.”

Harry knew. The tiredness and sore feelings were returning to his limbs, weighting them with lead. He let himself fall back on the bench and put his head in his hands. Ron was ultimately loyal and though it could take some time, he was fair enough he eventually recognised when he had been wrong.

After a few heartbeats of silence, Harry heard a rustle of cloth.

“Come on, you can’t be moping around just after you defeated all odds and came back first in the task! Especially after you told me in great lengths how much of an amazing person I am.” She puffed her chest in a way that reminded Harry of Lockhart at during his most obnoxious moments. Laughing, he let her tug him to his feet. “Look, they seem to have finally snapped out of their lovey dovey time. Let’s congratulate Cedric on his successful rescue!”

Without waiting, she started to drag him in the Hufflepuff’s direction and Harry barely heard her mutter of, “and brace ourselves for Ron coming back up.”

 

 

Cho saw their approach first and cheerfully waved them closer.

“Hogwarts came first Harry! You and I finished first!” Cedric yelled as soon as he had followed his girlfriend’s gaze. “Isn’t that great? We are winning the Tournament!”

The Cup really chose well with Cedric, Harry thought as he pasted a smile on his face and assented to Cedric’s words. He was skilled, so incredibly fair-play, and good-natured, that he began to think maybe if all the other Puffs were even a little like him, Gryffindor was not the only great House of Hogwarts.

“We are! Because we’ve been helping each other out Cedric. I helped you, then you helped me.”

“Exactly!” he cheered, “Hogwarts must stick together, and that’s what we are doing!”

His joy was contagious and soon, all four of them were discussing and laughing at Cedric’s defense that “of course I had to wake Cho up before going back up! Does she look like a damsel in distress to you? She would never have forgiven me if I hadn't done it!”

It was amidst Cho’s happy pride, Hermione’s fake indignation at having inadvertently been called a damsel in distress, and Cedric’s awkward backpedalling, that the surface of the lake rippled again.

A human body topped with a shark head emerged from it and pulled to the surface an orange haired teenager. Ron! The shark person who was turning back into Krum had saved Ron!

Harry could barely believe his eyes and he reached for Hermione’s hand. Both of them kept their eyes glued to Ron’s face, watching first with dread then with awe how Ron’s eyes glazed over when he saw in whose arms he was waking. Not even the bubbles that were forming further into the middle of the lake, nor the steam that started to emanate from that area. Not even the glowing half human, half bird shape that erupted from the boiling patch of water with a furious cry, carrying a blonde little girl in its clawed, feathered arms, could tear their eyes away from the look of utter contentment and adoration that was pasted on Ron’s face as Krum pulled him to the shore and carried him bridal style out of the lake.

Harry continued to gawk at Ron as Madam Pomfrey took care of him and Krum, only breaking his unblinking stare when a feathery yet humanoid form radiating warmth planted itself before him, blocking his view. Surprised, Harry took an instinctive step back. Or two.

“’Arry!” Fleur Delacour’s voice exclaimed brightly as her features morphed back into her fine bone structure. “’Arry, zank you!” She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. Harry was dazedly aware of Hermione’s huff as she was glaring at the Beauxbaton champion whose swimsuit was still steaming.

“W-why?” he stammered. He certainly had not deserved these enthusiastic thanks.

“I couldn’t ‘ave saved Gabrielle wizout you ‘Arry!” She said with a blinding smile and was that how allure worked? He had never found her as beautiful as she was right now. She pointed to a tiny wisp of a girl Madam Pomfrey was caring for, having temporarily abandoned Ron and Krum in her favor. “Gabrielle, ‘Arry! I couldn’t have reached her wizout your advice.”

“His advice?” Hermione interjected sharply, taking a step closer to the foreign champion.

“I was trapped. By ze little water demons wiz long fingers.” Harry could readily believe that. From the many cuts on her arms and legs, she certainly looked like she had had a rough time underwater. Even her feet were bleeding from what looked like several teeth marks.

“I couldn’t get away. But look what I did!” she twirled happily. “I am only a quarter Veela. I never should ‘ave been able to do the full transformation my grand-mozer can do.”

Her expression was so ecstatic Harry was beginning to wonder if this had been something she had been wanting to achieve unsuccessfully for quite some time.

“You said it, fire is my zing. So I tried and tried and it finally worked! Ze heat scared zem away too!” She finished, waving her hands enthusiastically. Harry swallowed uneasily. She was so incandescently happy Harry wouldn't be surprised if sparkles started to appear around her. Her swimsuit was entirely dry now, he noticed right before Hermione elbowed him harshly in the ribs. His smile at Fleur turned into a pained grimace.

He never thought he would feel bad for the grindylows one day but he did. They attacked him and he cut one in two. Then they tried to prey on Fleur… And probably got boiled.

Her thanks apparently over, Fleur waved at them before pouncing on her sister, emitting a bird-like trill as she crushed her tightly to her body.

Harry was a little relieved to see her go. A happy Fleur was a surprisingly chatty thing and Harry was starting to feel uncomfortable.

He exchanged a bemused look with Hermione who tentatively  broke the silence first, “I will put her exuberance to the stress and the happiness of having retrieved her sister?”

Harry nodded emphatically. “Let’s do that. Wanna go and check on Ron? Madam Pomfrey must be finished with him now.”

Hermione agreed and together, they discreetly toed around the two blondes who were hanging onto each other as if their lives depended on it to reach the last third of their trio.

 

 

Ron’s still hadn’t recovered from the shock when they reached him.

“Did you see Hermione?” he whispered urgently as soon as he had grabbed a hold of her. “I am the person he would ‘sorely miss’! Me! It wasn’t even you! The ball didn’t mean anything to him in the end! Did you see it too Harry?” To be fair, all Harry could were the literal stars that were shining brightly in Ron’s eyes.

“We saw Ron,” Hermione answered lightly through clenched teeth. “It was very heroic. I’m sure there will be tons of picture of you together that were taken today.” Her voice was a bit strained and Harry wondered why before everything came back to him when he saw the murderous glare she was throwing at Krum.

While Ron went back to dreamland after this news, muttering maybe he “could get one of them autographed by the best Seeker there ever was, sorry Harry but you know it's true”, Harry let out the breath he had unwittingly been holding. Ron wouldn’t hold this against him. That was good. He hadn’t crushed Ron’s sense of self worth by inadvertently choosing Hermione over him. He was so relieved, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

His apprehension gone, he joined Ron and Hermione’s good natured banter about the task while Dumbledore spoke with other merpeople who had appeared, probably hearing their reports about how the other champions had handled the task.

 

 

After lengthy deliberations, just as the trio’s discussion was coming to an end and Harry was carefully untangling a water beetle from Hermione’s hair, Ludo Bagman’s voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump. All around the crowd in the stands grew silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus and her aids have told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake. Therefore, after lengthy and animated deliberations” he frowned at Karkaroff for a moment before picking up where he had interrupted himself, “we have decided to collegially attribute marks out of fifty to each of the champions as follows…”

“Fleur Delacour demonstrated an excellent knowledge of the Bubble-Head Charm. She was also able to go beyond the normal limits of her magic by fully transforming into the non-human shape of her species, a near unheard of feat, to retrieve her hostage. Unfortunately for her, she returned nineteen minutes outside of the imparted time. We award her twenty-five points.”

Fleur regally nodded her head in acknowledgment to the polite applause that emanated mostly from Beauxbaton part of the stands. With her thirty-nine points from the first task, she would probably take the last place of the rankings.

“Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect. Though he was the first to complete the task the way it was intended in the imparted time with only fifty-three minutes under the lake, he unfortunately didn’t come back up with the right hostage, thus confusing and penalizing the other champions.”

Gasps were heard from the stands and Ron became rigid, his happiness evaporating as he remembered he was the one Harry had been supposed to save.

“However, merman Leres, who watched over Mister Potter during his task, said he apparently sincerely thought Miss Granger was his hostage.”

Ron’s face finished to fall. His voice was a barely audible whisper, “you left me down there Harry? You chose her over me?”

The betrayal he could hear broke Harry’s heart, “I didn’t see you Ron and –”

“Oh yeah, you didn't see me,” hissed a suddenly irate Ron. “Of course you didn't. You always pick her over me, why am I even surprised? Why couldn't someone have picked _me_ first for once?”

“I didn't,” Harry whispered frantically. “Ron I didn't do that, I only -”

“You are always with her!” Ron continued without showing he heard Harry’s plea. “Just look at this year you didn't speak to me!”

That was one accusation too many. “I would have spent time with you if you had believed me when I told you I didn't put my name in that blasted Goblet!” he shouted.

“Stop it”, Hermione clasped her hands over both of their mouths, looking worriedly around her. “Stop yelling. Now listen, they are going to announce his score!”

She was right to worry. Fortunately, Bagman’s enhanced voice had covered their argument.

“– as a result of all this, we have decided the result of Mister Potter, with the deduction of said penalty,” Bagman’s lips thinned and looked like he had swallowed a lemon, “was thirty points.”

Harry munched on his lower lip, temporarily distracted from Ron hurtful words. He now had seventy points. Higher than Fleur, but he would bet Cedric and Krum would get more than him.

“You deserved less for abandoning me and stealing another person’s hostage, you bloody traitor,” Ron muttered, dragging Harry out of his calculations. He grimaced, recoiling from Ron and inching closer to Hermione. Ron viciously bared his teeth in a parody of a smile when he noticed Harry’s reaction. He had aimed to hurt and succeeded, which in turn lessened his own pain.

“He didn’t mean that,” Harry mumbled tonelessly to himself. He knew that was the hurt speaking. Ron was right to be hurt, but Harry hadn't done this on purpose, he hadn’t seen him!

“Viktor Krum”

Ron threw one last venomous glance at Harry before perking up at the sound of his champion’s name.

“Used an incomplete form of human transfiguration, which was effective since it allowed him both to breathe underwater and use his wand to cast several powerful non-verbal spells. He was also the third to return with a hostage after one hour and twelve minutes, deciding to save Mister Weasley who hadn’t been intended for him initially.”

Ron puffed out his chest, a smile starting to stretch his lips again. His mercurial mood seemed to have settled on happiness again.

“For his extraordinary performance and his strength in the face of such a destabilizing situation, he was awarded forty points.”

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, seconded only by Ron who was making starry eyes at Krum again. His previous animosity forgotten, he turned to Harry to whisper conspiratorially to him, “you know, I think in the end you might have made the right choice, going back up with Hermione.”

Unable to believe how swiftly Ron’s forgiveness seemed to be handed to him, Harry could only stare at his all but brother in open-mouthed astonishment.

“You see,” Ron pursued, “he wouldn’t have saved me if he hadn’t liked me at least a little. He would have saved the Delacour kid otherwise because, when in doubt, you always save the kids first,” he nodded to himself, as though that made perfect sense.

Harry was listening to him talk with growing bemusement. Ron must have interpreted his lack of response as an invitation to explain himself further because he kept going, pointing at Krum.

“Don’t you see? He doesn’t look bothered he didn’t come back up with the supposedly right one!” Harry saw Hermione’s mood take a turn for the worse but he was curious. It was true Krum didn’t look bothered at all. He rather looked satisfied. Personally, Harry thought Krum had believed the organizers had made a mistake and taken Hermione’s friend over Hermione herself since she hadn’t even been supposed to be his first hostage.

But if this belief meant Ron was forgiving him so easily, he would accept this gift horse without looking at its teeth and make himself believe his interpretation. The part about Gabrielle could even make sense from a certain point of view.

“You are probably right Ron.” This was the correct answer to give because Ron smiled brightly at him, his previous anger definitely forgotten. That was one of the nice things about being friends with Ron. He could be quite forgiving at times, even though in this specific situation, Harry would have understood if Ron had stayed angry at him for a few months. He would have deserved it.

“Do you think...” Ron started but interrupted himself, blanching. “Do you think he only invited Hermione to make me jealous?”

Right when Harry thought the situation was resolved, he was back to staring dumbfoundedly at Ron.

“I mean,” Ron continued, oblivious to everything, even Hermione’s rapidly darkening mood. “I had tried to invite Fleur so he probably thought I wasn’t interested in him. And he was right. I am interested but not that way, you see?”

Ron paused to think for a moment before turning to look Harry squarely in the eyes, “do you think he finds me handsome Harry? You remember how he got us out of the lake? How he was carrying me? That must be a sign! Do you think I should go and tell him I’m flattered but don’t see him romantically?”

“No, Ron, don’t...” Harry scrambled to find a suitable answer, casting pleading eyes in Hermione’s direction but she was pretending she wasn’t hearing anything, preferring to glare at Krum instead.

The Bulgarian champion was looking back at her mournfully. He clearly did not understand the reason behind her barely contained hostility.

That meant Harry was on his own with Ron. “I think you should let him set the pace in this. He seems the introverted type who has troubles expressing his emotions.” Ron was nodding interestedly and his face was regaining some colors.

“You don’t want to make him feel cornered right?” Ron shook his head earnestly. “So you better keep that to yourself and let him come to you on his own terms. Okay? Maybe he just thought you would make a good friend and he doesn't know how to approach you?”

He could swear he heard Hermione snort.

“You’re right Harry. I’ll do that,” he grabbed Harry’s arm. “Now shush, they are announcing Cedric’s score!”

Harry shared a look with Hermione “You could have helped,” he mouthed at her.

“You did just fine on your own,” she mouthed back, dark eyes shining with mirth, and patted his arm mock-comfortingly.

“Cedric Diggory also used the Bubble-Head Charm. He combined it with a Propeller Charm on his way back, and was the second to return and with his rightful hostage, only one minute outside of the time limit of an hour.” Enormous cheers erupted from the Hogwarts crowd, the loudest coming from the Hufflepuff section. Harry saw Cho give Cedric yet another glowing look.

“Mister Diggory also intelligently used a loophole in the rules: he cast a second Bubble-Head Charm on Miss Chang, which awoke her twelve minutes before they both reached the surface, so eleven minutes before the hour was over. Us judges took all of this into account and decided to award him forty-nine points!” The new wave of cheers was deafening. Even Harry enthusiastically joined in despite his disappointment at his own score.

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” Bagman continued once the cheers had started to die down. “The champions will be notified of what is coming for them precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

It was over, Harry realized dazedly as Madam Pomfrey began herding champions and hostages back to the castle. It was over, both of his friends were still with him and he didn’t have to worry about that blasted Tournament until June. As he walked up to the stone steps of the castle, Harry resolved to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.

 

 

Of course, Harry despaired, things couldn’t have kept looking up. After only a few days of careful happiness, Cedric ambushed him, Ron, and Hermione on their way to breakfast, pushing them into the first empty classroom he could find.

“You can’t go down there,” he panted, once the door was closed. “People have gone crazy, you need to read this first!”

Hermione took the copy of the Witch Weekly Cedric was holding out and Harry felt his stomach drop. This couldn’t be good.

His bad feeling worsened when he saw Hermione’s face go beet red and her hands clench so much they crumpled the paper. He and Ron shared a look before hurrying to look behind her shoulder:

 

_[SPECIAL TOURNAMENT EDITION](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907817/chapters/32007327)_

_A FIVE-WAY LOVE INTRIGUE AT THE HEART OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT ?_

_The second task is now behind the champions and it was rife with revelations._

_Were love affairs started in the first task? Are the champions competing not for the Cup but for who could live happily ever after?_

_This reporter knows the answers._

_Was this reporter wrong about the events of the Yule Ball? Did Durmstrang’s Viktor Krum take Hermione Granger, breaker of hearts, to the ball only to destabilise a fellow champion? Or was it to grab the attention of Ron Weasley, who he openly acknowledged as his most precious person in the second task?_

_(The answer page 3)_

_Are Potter and Krum sharing lovers? Or is our dear orphan, already suffering from abandonment issues, desperate to reclaim his girlfriend, stolen from him for the time of a ball by the charismatic and muscled Bulgarian Seeker?_

_(More page 7)_

_Is Fleur Delacour tired of always failing in the tasks? Has this very sexually active woman genuinely fallen for the virginal charms of a fourteen year old child? Or has this part creature decided to use her allure on her competitors to secure her victory in the next task, starting with our own Boy-Who-Lived? Who will be the next victim of her implacable thirst for glory ?_

_(Continued page 12)_

 

Rita Skeeter had struck again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to/have the time to, I'd love it if you left a comment on your way out to tell me what you thought of this.  
> Kudos are always welcome too, those little hearts are addictive.
> 
> There's a photoset for the story: [here](https://lysore-writes.tumblr.com/post/175041881536/i-could-only-see-you-on-ao3-although-i-must) (it's hosted on Tumblr)


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